He stared at the same line without reading a single word, jaw locked so tightly a muscle pulsed in his cheek. His fingers tapped the pen against the table — a controlled, irritated rhythm he rarely slipped into.
Liam noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"So," Liam drawled, casually sliding into the seat opposite Ryan, "what are you going to do when he comes back?"
Ryan didn't look up.
"Work."
"Mm." Liam smirked. "Sure. Work."
Ryan finally lifted his eyes — slow, sharp, cold.
"Is there something amusing you'd like to share?"
Liam held his stare, unfazed.
"You. Pretending you don't care."
Ryan's gaze narrowed, dangerous.
"I don't pretend anything."
"But you react." Liam tilted his head. "And that's the part you hate, isn't it?"
Ryan set the pen down with a quiet clack.
A warning.
Liam leaned back, hands behind his head, stretching lazily like he owned the room.
"Relax, boss. I'm not judging. I'm just observing. You get tense when he talks to you. You get tense when he leaves too quickly. You get even more tense when he asks nicely for something." His lips curved. "And when he said he'd come back? You almost—"
"Enough."
Ryan's voice sliced through the air.
Liam's mouth snapped shut.
Max froze mid-step.
The silence that followed wasn't loud — it was heavy.
Ryan wasn't shouting. He didn't need to.
His authority settled like ice over both of them.
After a long moment, Ryan spoke again, quieter but sharper:
"Get out of my sight, Liam."
Liam blinked, stunned for half a second — Ryan rarely gave direct orders like that.
He usually dismissed people with his eyes alone.
"…Alright," Liam murmured, forcing a small smile as he stood. "I get it."
He walked away, but Max could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.
This wasn't about Kia.
Not really.
It was about Ryan choosing someone else to react to.
Max waited until Liam disappeared down the hall before cautiously speaking.
"Boss… are you sure you don't want to rest? You look—"
Ryan lifted a hand to silence him.
"I'm fine."
Max nodded and backed up quickly.
But he wasn't fooled.
Because Ryan wasn't reading anymore.
He wasn't writing.
He wasn't working.
He was staring at the spot Kia had stood earlier.
Completely unaware of himself.
Completely unaware of how obvious he looked.
And completely unprepared for the storm coming tonight.